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Roxy nodded, and blew her nose just as the door to the office opened and a couple in their late thirties came out. The man was beaming with happiness as he took his partner’s hand and said, ‘After all this time, we’re finally going to be a family. I can hardly believe it!’

She was almost crying with joy as she kissed his cheek, then she turned to the woman in a tidy navy-blue suit who’d escorted them to the door and said, ‘Sandra, we just can’t thank you enough. This means everything to us.’

As the couple left the office chattering happily, Sandra smiled and said, ‘Hello, thank you for coming, would you like to come through?’

Shauna and Roxy looked at each other and after a moment Shauna stood up and held her hand out. ‘Come on, it’s time, let’s go.’

Roxy stood and followed her through the door, which the woman closed quietly behind them.

The receptionist, who’d been watching them out of the corner of her eye, resumed sorting through the contents of her in-tray. Then the phone rang, breaking the silence; she picked up the receiver and announced, ‘Good morning, Next Step Adoption Agency, how can I help you?’

Chapter 14

Los Angeles, 1986

Roxy screamed and jumped up and down in excitement. ‘Oh my God oh my God oh my God, I can’t believe we’re here!’

Shauna screamed, too. ‘It’s huge! I never thought it would be so big, and it looks just like it does on Oscar night!’

Grauman’s Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard dominated the stretch of sidewalk, and the whole world seemed to be thronging outside the theatre as tourists gawped, ooohed and ahhed at the handprints of Hollywood royalty in concrete. Japanese tourists took pictures of each other, the shutters of their cameras clicking rapidly; a fat American boy in a baseball cap and a Top Gun T-shirt slurped a giant cup of Coca-Cola through a straw as his mother, her coal-black hair coiffed to within an inch of its life, cooed over the handprints of Frank Sinatra. ‘Hey, Joey,’ she shouted in a New Jersey accent, ‘c’mon over here and put your hands in Frank’s!’

‘Shauna, look here,’ Roxy squealed. ‘It’s Elizabeth Taylor and Rock Hudson. And here’s John Travolta – ooh, he’s dreamy, I loved him in Grease.’

Shauna picked her way through the throngs of people, her eyes cast down as she looked for the handprints of the one person that would truly make this day extra special. But even though she methodically walked up and down, scanning the ground, she didn’t find what she was looking for.

Roxy appeared by her side. ‘Those hawkers are asking ten dollars for a “homes of the rich and famous” tour in Beverly Hills. Fancy it?’

‘Hmmm?’

‘What’re you looking for?’

‘Oh, nothing …’

‘Ah, I get it, you’re looking for Grace Kelly, aren’t you?’

Shauna grinned sheepishly. ‘How did you guess?’

‘It’s only like your one obsession!’

‘I don’t think she’s here, though.’ Shauna’s shoulders slumped briefly before Roxy reached out and gave her shake, doing another little squeal.

‘Oh, this is the best day ever! I can’t believe we’re here, in LA.’

Shauna laughed her momentary frustration away. ‘I know, who would have thought we’d make it here?’

‘We did, remember?’

‘How could I forget! What shall we do now? I’m hungry.’

‘Me too, let’s go find a diner.’

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in an all-American diner around the corner, drooling over the menus. A row of chrome stools lined the gleaming counter, but they chose one of the booths with leather seats and a Formica top instead.

‘I’m going to have blueberry pancakes with maple syrup.’ Roxy said.

Shauna licked her lips; it all looked delicious. When a waitress in a frilly apron came to take their order, she told her, ‘Eggs and bacon on French toast, hold the sugar.’

‘You sound like a local,’ Roxy said as the waitress bustled over to the kitchen hatch and shouted the order at the harassed chef, pinning the ticket next to the others.